Vayishlach – "A Song Every Day"

Joni and Dinah

Chapter 34 of Genesis begins with a woman going to visit neighbors. It is one of very few instances in Genesis — maybe the only one? — of an apparently friendly, non-transactional interaction with folks of the surrounding culture. And one of the few instances in Genesis in which a woman has any agency. This episode is part of the Torah portion Vayishlach (Gen 32:4-36:43). The commentary is inspired by Joni Mitchell and “The Last Waltz,” concert and film, as well as Dinah’s story

CONTENT WARNING: What follows is mostly about music and crossing boundaries of various kinds in contemporary society. But Dinah’s story cannot be separated from disturbing underlying topics, including misogyny, racism, and sexual violence.

UPDATED afternoon of 12/5/25: mostly edits to correct typos and awkward grammar; some new phrasing in the Joni Mitchell, Now and Then section and a few new paragraphs at the end. Apologies for any confusion… still thinking.

Existing in Public

In Genesis 34:1, Dinah, “went out [teitzei] to see the women of the land.” The single verse relating this scene describes Dinah as “daughter of Leah, whom she had borne to Jacob.” (More below on Dinah and her going out, and a little about her parents.)

This “going out” is the only verb attributed to Dinah and the only time that other women are mentioned in Chapter 34. One verb. One verse of agency. And no voice.

The text itself does not criticize Dinah for going out or denigrate the women she went to visit. But the consequences of this one woman exercising agency and existing in public for the space of one verse are dramatic and dire. This reverberates in so many aspects of US society today, and in history, where simply existing in public is understood by some as provocation:

walking or driving while Black;
being queer in public;
living with brown skin or other signs of “possible immigrant” status;
being “too Jewish” or Jewish in the “wrong place” or the “wrong” kind of Jewish;
playing sports without identifying strongly with one gender;
existing as a transgender person;
expressing support for Palestine;
appearing in any way that resists authoritarianism;
what we used to call “doing your own thing” among folks strongly committed to some other way of being.

At various points in US history, whatever white people performed on stage or dance floor was eventually accepted as mainstream, while “Black music” was/is continually viewed as dangerous and in need of policing by white nationalism:

Jazz. Here in Germany it become something worse than a virus. We was all of us damn fleas, us Negroes and Jews and low-life hoodlums, set on playing that vulgar racket, seducing sweet blond kids into corruption and sex. It wasn’t music, it wasn’t a fad. It was a plague sent out by the dread black hordes, engineered by the Jews. Us Negroes, see, we was only half to blame – we just can’t help it. Savages just got a natural feel for filthy rhythms, no self-control to speak of. But the Jews, brother, now they cooked up this jungle music on purpose. All part of their master plan to weaken Aryan youth, corrupt its janes, dilute its bloodlines.

…we was officially degenerate.

…And poor damn Jews, clubbed to a pulp in the streets, their shopfronts smashed up, their axes ripped from their hands. Hell. When that old ivory-tickler Volker Schramm denounced his manager Martin Miller as a false Aryan, we know Berlin wasn’t Berlin no more. It had been a damn savage decade.
–Sid, Black musician narrator, in Esi Edyugan’s Half-Blood Blues: A Novel Picador, 2011 p.78-79

Further discussion of Edyugan’s novel, racial and music history, and how Germany in the 1930s relates to US history and my own story; plus whole series from 2016 on related topics.

In a somewhat similar vein, women’s and queer people’s existence continues to be viewed as dangerous in many quarters and in need of policing by cishet men and white nationalists.

Joni Mitchell, Then and Now

With US Thanksgiving, I am often reminded of “The Last Waltz” as a film and soundtrack, both of which have been important parts of my world for decades. And, most years, I re-discover how angry I still am at the film’s treatment of Joni Mitchell as an artist and human being. It is only in the last 10 or 15 years, that I’ve learned just how much of the film’s presentation was NOT what the original concert offered; instead, Martin Scorsese chose, and popular attitudes to women permitted, deliberate manipulation of concert footage in ways that denigrate Mitchell and every woman, in- and beyond the arts.

Details here —

Setting Out

I wrote the above piece a few years ago, in a week associated with a different part of the Torah, and on the heels of Mitchell’s surprise appearance at Newport that year (2022). I recently updated some of this post’s language for clarity and to add a few new links.

This year (2025), I had the opportunity to attend a tribute to “The Last Waltz” at a music venue just outside of Chicago. In many ways it was a great concert and a terrific experience. However, unless I misunderstood his meandering words, the musician-emcee called Joni Mitchell a tramp while introducing “Coyote.” I think he believed he was being funny, and maybe he meant to illustrate double-standards that existed then and still operate. But I was mostly struck with how hard the world can still — after 50 years! — push back when many people are just trying to exist, live their life, and engage their art.

Defending and Celebrating “Going Out”

We only get his one verse, in the midst of such a wildly disturbing story, that tells of Dinah’s going out. And we don’t learn much, if anything, about the rest of the family engaging with local culture or making friends. Is the Torah trying to tell us how dangerous it is to be going out into the surrounding culture? If so, when did that emphasis come into the telling? And what might we learn by focusing on the importance of going out and what we miss if we fear it or are attacked for doing so?

UPDATE 12/5 afternoon, four paragraphs and image added here:

When Esau and Jacob meet, after decades apart, the Torah text includes dots above the word va-yishakeihu [and he kissed him] in Genesis 33:4: “Esau ran to meet him; he embraced him, flung himself upon his neck, and kissed him. And they wept.”

For centuries, Jewish teaching has used these dots to suggest that the text be read in opposition to its straightforward meaning: instead of kissing Jacob, Esau was insincere in his greeting or perhaps trying to bite or otherwise do Jacob harm. (Find the text and commentary at Sefaria.)

As part of the deliberate demonization of Esau, unsupported by the Torah itself, this dotted reading is one of my least favorite aspects of Torah commentary. It seems very like Scorsese’s use of interview footage to completely alter how viewers are introduced to Joni Mitchell. And all too resonant with dangerous propaganda through the ages. However, the dots also offer a powerful example of how Jewish tradition has always found a way to read with some skepticism, even change the text where warranted.

Jacob went out; Leah went out; Dinah went out. Maybe we, too, can go out into Torah readings that put us in better touch with our families, our neighbors, and the world at large. Where Torah has been weaponized, we can learn to acknowledge harm and promote better readings. And where our culture, in- and outside of Judaism, has tricked us into thinking the worst of others, maybe we can work to undo the propaganda.

NOTES

Dinah Went Out

Prior to Genesis 34, Dinah is previously mentioned only at her birth and naming (Gen 30:21). Dinah, daughter of Leah and Jacob, has no voice of her own in the text, and we never hear from Leah or any other women of Jacob’s household or the town regarding her fate. Instead, men act on and about Dinah: She is an object — of lust or love, depending on translation/interpretation — for the prince, who is seen lurking here in R. Crumb’s illustration —

comic frame for Gen 34:1 shows Dinah visiting with a few women while Shechem looks on from nearby. — R. Crumb’s The Illustrated Book of Genesis, Norton, 2009.**

Then Dinah is the object of various decisions and actions by the prince, his father, other men of the local town, and her own father and brothers. Over the centuries, Dinah’s “going out” has been variously interpreted as

involving herself — for better or worse, depending on the commentary’s perspectives and biases — in the existing culture;
spying on the women of the land;
showing off her wealth;
seeking women’s companionship in a non-romantic sense;
checking out the women as potential romantic partners;
seeking inappropriate attention, with some teachers insisting that a woman seeking any attention at all is inappropriate (and potentially dangerous);
acting forward, as Leah’s going out to meet Jacob (Gen 30:16) is often characterized, with the implication that women must be restrained;
simply moving through the world, which the text itself does not condemn, perhaps akin to Jacob’s going out to find his way (Gen 28:10).

**Alt Text: graphic frame for Gen 34:1-2 shows Dinah visiting congenially with a few women in what appears to be a public square, while the prince looks on from behind a nearby building column. R. Crumb’s Illustrated Book of Genesis uses Robert Alter’s 1996 translation: “And Dinah, Leah’s daughter, whom she had borne to Jacob, went out to see some of the daughters of the land. And Shechem, the son of Hamor the Hivite, prince of the Land, saw her…”

Commentary on Dinah’s Story

Rashi (11th Century CE France) notices that Leah previously “went out” (Gen 30:16): “like mother, like daughter.” Rashi adds a note about the need for men to subdue wives from public activity.

Ibn Ezra (12th Century CE Spain) says: AND DINAH WENT OUT. Of her own accord — as in: She did not ask her parents’ permission.

Ramban (13th Century CE Spain) says “bat Leah” is links Dinah to Simeon and Levi, who are also children of Leah and so are moved to avenge her [due to perceived defilement]

The Torah: A Women’s Commentary (CCAR Press, 2008) notes that Jephthah’s daughter “went out to meet him,” using the same yud-tzadei-aleph verb (Judges 11:34) with horrible consequences. That volume has more on Dinah. See also “The Debasement of Dinah” and “A Story that Biblical Authors Keep Revising” Dinah and Schechem” at TheTorah.com.

Women’s Archive on Dinah in historical midrash.

Some relatively contemporary notes on Dinah. While some people treat Anita Diamant’s novel, The Red Tent (St. Martin’s Press, 1997), as midrash, the author herself says it is historical fiction.

An exploration of Dinah as transgender.

Note also that Leah goes on to live with Jacob on “the land,” while Rachel seems strongly linked to her family’s original home, “back there,” and dies on the road giving birth to the only child born in “the land.” (More on these aspects of the story found in this older post.)

Notes on “subdue it/her”

Rashi and Genesis Rabbah to Gen 34:1

Rashi cites Genesis Rabbah (4th Century, Talmudic Israel), which uses Gen 34:1 as proof text for why men should subdue their wives: Gen 1:28 tells humans to “…fill the earth and subdue it/her [mil’u et ha-‘aretz v’khivshuha…].” The Hebrew verb construction v’khivshuha uses the feminine direct object ha [it/her] to match the feminine noun ‘aretz. Commentary plays on that grammatical feature to read “subdue her [the woman],” rather than the more common “subdue it [the earth],” bringing Gen 34:1-3 as explanation: “the man subdues his wife so she should not go out in public, as any woman who goes out in public will ultimately falter.” Implication is that Dinah “faltered” by allowing herself to come in contact with Shekhem (Gen 34:2); depending on reading of va-y’aneiha, this means either that Dinah allowed herself to be “humbled” by consensual association with Shekhem or that she made herself vulnerable to physical attack or social violation by “going out,” i.e, simply being a woman in public space.

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The Babylon Road

Exploring Babylon Chapter 8.1

The biblical Rachel, the last matriarch to join and add to the clan that becomes Israel, is tied to the east in several ways — all leading, ultimately, to Babylon.

Children of Two Lands

Rachel is introduced just after Jacob arrives in the “land of the Easterners [אַרְצָה בְנֵי-קֶדֶם]” (Genesis 29:1, last week’s Torah portion: Vayetze, Gen 28:10-32:3).

The construct “בְנֵי-קֶדֶם, bnei-kedem” — sometimes translated as “people (or children) of the east,” sometimes, “Kedemites” — does not appear anywhere else in the Torah, although it shows up ten times later in the Tanakh (Concordance Even-Shoshan). Many Torah translations leave the expression without comment (cf. Alter, Fox, URJ, Women of Reform Judaism, Gefen Onkelos); the Stone Chumash simply points out that Ur Kasdim and Haran, places associated with Abraham’s family, are east from Canaan.

Some commentators note that eastward is the direction Abraham sent the children of Ketura, whom he married after Sarah’s death (Gen 25:6). The word “kedem” itself means “past,” as well as “east.”

Previous #ExploringBabylon chapters discussed two themes, repeated through much of Genesis:

Ur Kasdim and Haran as “Back Home” for the family of Terah;
the descendants of Sarah and Abraham as perpetually “from there.”

Both themes appear in Jacob’s story, and both appear, in two quite different ways, in the stories of Leah and Rachel.

Two Sisters

Jacob is urged, separately by Rebecca and Isaac, to leave Canaan, with both parents saying that he should seek out Rebecca’s brother and find a wife from the uncle’s household (“back home”). Isaac echoes Abraham’s earlier words, insisting his son should find a wife “from there [מִשָּׁם].”

In their instructions to Jacob, Rebecca calls her old home “Haran,” while Isaac calls the place “Paddan-Aram.” Jacob goes to Paddan-Aram (Gen 28:5), going out from Beer-Sheva toward Haran (Gen 28:10). Where he arrives, however, is “artzah bnei-kedem.”

Jacob’s grandparents and parents retained a sense of “from there,” while leaving “back home” behind: Sarah and Abraham left there, as did Rebecca. But Jacob’s trajectory is different: He will live decades among the people of kedem. So, even though the plain meaning of arriving “artzah bnei-kedem” is reaching the “east country” or “land of the Easterners” (as JPS has it above), Jacob has also, in a sense, traveled toward his family’s past. And Rachel’s introduction links her to this land in a way that Leah’s does not.

Jacob arrives in the land of the Easterners, where he sees a well and flocks of sheep and then meets locals who tell him his cousin Rachel is on the way. Rachel, whose name means “ewe,” is intricately woven into this landscape and the household of Laban, where she is seen and heard taking an active role.

Leah, in contrast, is not introduced until 29:16 and then only as Laban’s older daughter with tender, or weak, eyes; she is not linked to the land in any way and does not interact with Laban, except as the passive object of his machinations.

Two Stories

The sisters jointly declare themselves “as outsiders” [כִּי מְכָרָנוּ] in Laban’s household, when Jacob proposes leaving (Gen 31:14-16). The Torah: A Woman’s Commentary adds:

By acknowledging their outsider status in the household, Leah and Rachel prepare themselves to journey to an unknown land. They distinguish themselves from their father, citing the egregious manner in which he married them off and then denied them their due.
— Rachel Havrelock’s commentary to Vayetze

But this doesn’t pan out in the same way for both sisters.

Eventually, although we learn nothing about the later stage of her life, Leah does settle with Jacob and the extended family in Canaan; she is buried at Machpelah with Sarah and Abraham, Rebecca and Isaac, and, finally, Jacob (Gen 49:31). We also learn that Dinah, “the daughter whom Leah had borne to Jacob, went out to visit the daughters of the land” (Gen 34:1); this troubling episode is beyond the scope of this project, but it does seem relevant that Leah and Dinah are thus linked, not to the old land but to the new.

Rachel, in contrast, seems to have stronger relationships to the old land and to the old family. She steals the terafim (הַתְּרָפִים [idols, household gods]) from her father’s house (Gen 31:34), which many commentators link to inheritance or clan leadership — although there is great variety in interpreting the meaning of her act. Moreover, when Laban comes in search of his property, Leah is again a cipher in his presence, but Rachel is seen and heard responding to her father.

However the theft is interpreted, Rachel’s act exhibits strong opinions about her native culture and her place in it. She does not simply move on. And she doesn’t simply move into the new land, either, as her story unfolds in this week’s Torah portion (Vayishlach, Gen 32:4-36:43).

Two Bookends

We’ll explore Rachel’s appearance in the Book of Jeremiah more thoroughly later, but it seems important to mention here the second bookend for her story: We saw above how the landscape appeared prior to Rachel’s gradually coming into view as part of it (Genesis Chapter 29). In Jeremiah 31:15, her cry is heard “wailing, bitter weeping,” before we are told that it is Rachel weeping.

Rachel is tied strongly to the land of her birth; she doesn’t leave it easily or have an opportunity to live in the new land, even as she gives birth to the only child of Jacob, tribe of Israel, born there.

And Rachel died, and was buried on the road to Ephrath (Gen 35:19). Why did Jacob see fit to bury Rachel on the road to Ephrath [and not in the cave of Machpelah*]? Because our father Jacob foresaw that they who were to be exiled would pass by way of Ephrath. Therefore he buried her there, so that she might beseech mercy for them. Referring to this, Scripture says, “A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation, and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children” (Jer. 31:15).
— Sefer Ha-Aggadah 50:87, based on Genesis Rabbah 82:10

*Footnote provided by Sefer Ha-Aggadah: Ramah, near where Jacob buried Rachel, lay north of Jerusalem in the path of the exiles driven toward Babylon. Hebron is south of Jerusalem, and the patriarchs and matriarchs buried there in the cave of Machpelah were out of the way of the exiles going northeast to Babylon.

In this way — and in others we’ll explore soon — the bookends of Rachel’s life and death link her to the Babylon of the past and future and to the precarious nature of Israel’s future on the land.

Vayishlach: Something to Notice

The following excerpt, based in part on this week’s portion, is from “Godwrestling: Jacob and Esau,” the first chapter in Arthur Waskow‘s 1978 book, Godwrestling.*

I first learned of Fabrangen** through this book, recommended by Chuck Fager, a Quaker writer who thought Fabrangen had some things in common with unprogrammed Friends. More than a decade after joining Fabrangen in real life, I now find that Arthur’s words capture an aspect of my own experience: “My deepest learning was precisely the process of wrestling itself, not particular conclusions,” and, although I don’t generally write about Fabrangen — or Temple Micah or the Jewish Study Center, I do struggle with how and where to include fellow Godwrestlers in writing they might not necessarily endorse.***

I think this excerpt, and this weekly portion, offer a great reminder for each of us to take note of those who struggle with us to glimpse the “outlines of God’s Face”:

I was learning to grapple with Torah in the midst of a community of Jews….

The community of Jews was, is, called Fabrangen* — the Yiddish for “coming together.” In it people come together around the effort, the hope–sometimes bright, sometimes flickering–to create a modern path of life that draws authentically from Jewish tradition but is expressed in new ways… (pp. 2-3)

We have no rabbi and no rebbe….

From our many different life experiences, we wrestle with each other. And we wrestle with Torah and all of Jewish tradition…. (p.4)

By telling stories about Fabrangen I give Fabrangen a shape. Because the stories are my stories, the shape Fabrangen takes on is, of necessity, the shape I see…

Perhaps I could avoid this problem by simply writing down the result of the process….Leave Fabrangen to an honorable footnote. But that would be unfaithful to my sense that my deepest learning was precisely the process of wrestling itself, not particular conclusions.

…for now this is one of the many struggles in which we are still straining our eyes in the dark before daybreak, straining to see —

…I welcome wrestling partners to this book. Together may we be able to begin to see the outlines of God’s Face. And of each other’s. (p.12)
— from Godwrestling, Arthur Waskow. NY: Schocken, 1978.

* I believe the 1978 version is out of print. A later edition, God Wrestling-Round 2: Ancient Wisdom, Future Paths, was published in 1998.

** “Farbrangen” is a Yiddish word that means “coming together,” as for a meeting. “Fabrangen” — with no “r” — is the name of a Washington, DC, havurah founded in 1971 and focusing on “coming together in joy.” The name might have been a simple misspelling, the result of translating a Bostoner’s pronunciation, or an indication that Fabrangen has no rabbi.

** Now, footnotes — endangered species though they be — are actually among the most exciting spots in some reading material….Did you ever notice, for example, the footnote in Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Grammar that begins “Compare the joke”? (I’ve hit the jackpot and he wants to give me lessons) [hypernote]

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The “Opening the Book” series was originally presented in cooperation with the independent, cross-community Jewish Study Center and with Kol Isha, an open group that for many years pursued spirituality from a woman’s perspective at Temple Micah (Reform). “A Song Every Day” is an independent blog, however, and all views, mistakes, etc. are the author’s.

Vayishlach: A Path to Follow

Twice in this portion, Jacob is told he will henceforth be called “Israel”:

“Not Jacob shall your name hence be said, but Israel, for you have striven with God and men, and won out,” Jacob is told after his wrestling match on the bank of the Jabbok river (Genesis/Breishit 32:23-31). In Genesis/Breishit 35:9-10, we read: “God appeared again to Jacob on his arrival from Paddan-aram, and He blessed him. God said to him, ‘You whose name is Jacob, You shall be called Jacob no more, But Israel shall be your name.’ Thus He named him Israel.”

In his Five Books of Moses* (2004), Robert Alter comments on this name change:

It is nevertheless noteworthy–and to my knowledge has not been noted –that the pronouncement about the new name is not completely fulfilled. Whereas Abraham is invariably called “Abraham” once the name is changed from “Abram,” the narrative continues to refer to this patriarch in most instances as “Jacob.”

This is an odd statement, given the plethora of comments — from very different views of Torah, stretching back centuries — referencing the fact that “the pronouncement about the new name is not completely fulfilled.” Here are just a few:

Jacob no more. But in fact the appellation Jacob continues at once. Critics have attempted to distinguish between an “Israel tradition” and a “Jacob tradition.” If these every existed, they have been thoroughly interwoven, and the names have now become interchangeable. — Plaut,* (1981)

Your name is Jacob. Although He was about to give Jacob the additional name of Isreal, God told him that he would continue to be called Jacob (Ramban [16th Century CE Italy]; Sforno [12th Century CE Spain]). From that time onward, the name Jacob would be used for matters pertaining to physical and mundane matters, while the name Israel would be used for matters reflecting the spiritual role of the Patriarch and his descendants (R’ Bachya [Ibn Paquda, 14th Century CE Spain]).

Although both Abraham and Jacob were given new names there is a basic difference between them, for the Talmud states that anyone who refers to Abraham as Abram is in violation of a negative commandment (Berachos 13a), whereas both names continue to be used for Jacob….

Or HaChaim [18th Century CE Italy] explains the reason for the difference. Every name in the Torah reprsents the sould that God emplaced in that person. Consequently, the name “Jacob” represents his soul, while the name “Israel” represents an enhancement of the soul, which Jacob earned by growing and transcending the mission signified by the original name…. — Stone,* (1993)

Alter does elaborate a bit differently (although I’m not sure that it’s a unique perspective):

Thus, “Israel” does not really replace his name but becomes a synonym for it — a practice reflected in the parallelism of biblical poetry, where “Jacob” is always used in the first half of the line and “Israel,” the poetic variation, in the second half.

For more on this rich path, here are just two of the many further avenues to explore: Shefa Gold’s Torah Journey, including a personal spiritual practice, for this portion and/or a discussion of universalism versus nationalism based on the work of Rav Kook (1865-1935).

*See Source Materials for Torah commentary citations and further details.

The “Opening the Book” series was originally presented in cooperation with the independent, cross-community Jewish Study Center and with Kol Isha, an open group that for many years pursued spirituality from a woman’s perspective at Temple Micah (Reform). “A Song Every Day” is an independent blog, however, and all views, mistakes, etc. are the author’s.

Vayishlach: Language and Translation

Now Dinah — the daughter of Leah, whom she had borne to Jacob — went out to look over the daughters of the land [lirot bi-banot ha-aretz]. Shechem, son of Hamor the Hivvite, the prince of the region, saw her [va-yareh]; he took her, lay with her, and violated her.

And Dinah, Leah’s daughter, whom she had borne to Jacob, went out to go seeing among the daughters of the land. And Shechem, the son or Hamor the Hivite, prince of the land, saw her and took her and lay with her and abused her. Continue reading Vayishlach: Language and Translation

Vayishlach: Great Source(s)

The uterine struggle between Jacob and Esau [Genesis/Breishit 25:22-26] prefigures the momentous struggle with the angel [Gen. 32:23-31]. It is through wrestling in the night with a divine being that Jacob acquires the nation’s name. “They name shall be no more called Jacob, but Israel,” says the divine opponent, “for as a prince hast thou power with God and with men, and hast prevailed (Gen. 32:28). Jacob does not become angelic as a result of this nocturnal encounter, but the struggle reveals a certain kind of intimacy with God that is unparalleled.

The nation, not unlike the eponymous father, is both the chosen son and the rebel son, and accordingly its relationship with the Father is at once intimate and strained…. Continue reading Vayishlach: Great Source(s)